Frozen Retribution

Ean Smith glanced at his watch, irritation etched on his face. "Three days, and Madeline still hasn't admitted her mistake?"

"That woman is so stubborn!" He paced the room, frustration boiling over.

Helen Roberts walked in at this moment, carrying a bowl of chicken noodle soup. "Ean, let it go. She didn't do it on purpose. Three days is more than enough time."

Ean's expression softened as he looked at her. "You're just too kind-hearted. If Madeline had even a bit of your understanding, it would be great."

"Don't be mad at her. She just cares too much about you," Helen said gently.

Ean sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing his subordinate's number. "Any word from Madeline?"

"No, sir. There's been no sound from inside. Could something have happened?" The voice on the other end sounded uneasy.

"What could have happened? If she doesn't admit to her mistake, let her stay in there!" He snapped, hanging up the call with a resolute click. His cold demeanor returned.

Helen stood beside him, feeling a sense of triumph.

I rolled my eyes. Ean would never get my response because I was already dead!

I died three days ago.

After he left, the abandoned freezer powered on. I was alone inside, shouting for help, but no one answered.

At first, I could still hear voices outside. Desperately, I banged on the door and pleaded, but the guards were indifferent.

"Mr. Smith said you should reflect inside, Mrs. Smith. Don't make this harder for us," one of the guards said coldly.

"No! Please, the freezer's on! Someone, help me!" I screamed until my voice cracked with panic.

The voices faded away, though. They had left me.

I tried to stay calm, searching frantically for a way out. As the temperature dropped, my thoughts became sluggish. I started running in circles, trying to stay warm. My breath came out in visible puffs.

Eventually, my legs gave out. I could barely move as I had been frozen stiff. I curled up in a corner, praying for some warmth.

This place used to store frozen seafood. Now, it was just empty shelves and icy air. I stacked the shelves around me, a futile attempt to block the cold.

It was useless.

When I realized I was dead, a wave of despair washed over me. Seeing my frost-covered body, eyes wide with terror, and bloody nails, I felt a bone-chilling shock.

Just as I was about to take a closer look, a force pulled me away, and I found myself standing next to Ean.

His actions were almost laughable. "I hope I don't meet you wherever I end up after this," I muttered bitterly.

I stood aside, watching Ean and Helen. Helen handed him her phone. "Ean, I got tickets for the art exhibition. Will you come with me tomorrow?"

"Sure. It's getting late. You should go rest now," he replied, not even glancing my way.

Helen clutched Ean's hand, her voice trembling, "I'm afraid of the dark. Can you stay with me?"

Ean sighed but got up reluctantly. I had nearly forgotten Helen was staying at our house.

The moment she came back from abroad, she contacted Ean, saying she needed a place to stay because she was unfamiliar with the area.

It was ridiculous—she was a local. Five years abroad and suddenly, she couldn't navigate her own hometown?

When I voiced my objections at the time, Ean snapped, "Madeline, her parents aren't here. Do you even understand how unsafe it is for a woman to live alone?"

Of course, I knew. I had lived alone before we got married.

Back then, Ean had told me, "Madeline, a woman must have self-respect. I don't want to live together before marriage."

Now, I saw how hypocritical he was.

Ean walked Helen to the guest room, which was supposed to be our future nursery. Helen had claimed she liked the light in that room, so Ean gave it to her.